"But this reminds me," added Aunt Judy, "that you--tiresome No. 6--
have spoilt my story after all! I had not half got to the end of the
miseries. For instance, there was the TAKING-CARE misery, in
consequence of which the little Victims were sent out to play on a
fine day, and kept in when it was stormy and wet, all because those
stupid keepers were more anxious to keep them well in health than to
please them at the moment.

"And then there was--above all--" here Aunt Judy became very
impressive, "the WASHING misery, which consisted in their being
obliged to make themselves clean and comfortable with soap and water
whenever they happened to be dirty, whether with playing at knuckle-
bones on the floor, or anything else, and which was considered SO
HARD that--"

But here a small hand was laid on Aunt Judy's mouth, and a gentle
voice said, "Stop, Aunt Judy, now!" on which the rest shouted, "Stop!
stop! we won't hear any more," in chorus, until all at once, in the
midst of the din, there sounded outside the door the ominous
knocking, which announced the hour of repose to the juvenile branches
of the family.

It was a well-known summons, but on this occasion produced rather an
unusual effect. First, there was a sudden profound silence, and
pause of several seconds; then an interchange of glances among the
little ones; then a breaking out of involuntary smiles upon several
young faces; and at last a universal "Good-night, Aunt Judy!" very
quietly and demurely spoken.